Compliance (8 page)

As they continue to fight, I watch Cal and imagine what it would be like if he knew the truth about me. Would he suddenly want to report me, to fight me, to kill me? Or would he understand and still love me? Maybe if he knew the truth, I could fully love him back, like he deserves.

He’s already proven his loyalty by not turning my brother in, and by standing by me after my kidnapping. Cal’s hatred of Deviants is grounded in misinformation—the same misinformation everyone in Haven’s being fed—and maybe if he knew the truth, things would be different.

The cheers grow louder. Cal raises his hands above his head and shouts. The match is over. He won. I turn to the screen, and the Burn-like avatar is shooting flames from its eyes. I almost laugh.

I jump off the crate and push through the crowd, planning to congratulate Cal, but Stacy gets there first. Acid burns in my stomach. I’m about to charge forward and push her aside, but someone else challenges Cal, pulling his
attention from Stacy. I turn back toward my spot on the crate. Ansel’s gone.

Shouts rise above the chatter and something, or someone, bangs against the wall so hard it vibrates. I get up on the crate to see. Thor pulls Ansel forward by the shirt, then slams him into the wall—hard.

“If you’re not a Deviant, then prove it.” Thor punches Ansel in the gut.

“Fight!” several voices shout in tandem, and the crowd forms a semicircle around the pair.

Thor slams his open hand into the wall next to Ansel’s head. “Come on, Deviant. Let’s see whatever you do that makes you a freak.”

My hatred for our class bully expands, and I wonder if I could convince Mr. Belando that Thor is the terrorist mole. The idea’s laughable—no one hates Deviants more than Thor, and from what I’ve seen, he’s not bright enough for deception.

I doubt that reporting him would help stop the real terrorists but at least it might get Thor kicked out of COT.

Fists raised, the bully curls his upper lip and beckons Ansel, taunting him, daring him to attack. Ansel steps away from the wall. “I’m not a Deviant.”

“Then you don’t have anything to worry about,” Thor says. “You’ll pass my little test.”

Thor charges, but Ansel ducks and comes up from below, landing a punch on Thor’s nose. Blood trails down the bully’s upper lip and then flies off when he roars. He rages forward, arms flailing, fists landing on Ansel’s tucked body. Thor’s
not using any of the combat techniques we’ve been taught, but his wildness is proving surprisingly effective against his smaller opponent. Ansel might not survive.

I jump down and my heart thumps loudly in my ears. I try to get closer. Someone needs to stop Thor.

Before I get there, Cal pushes his way to the front of the semicircle.

Fear tightens my stomach. Someone does need to stop this, but not Cal. I don’t want him hurt. Fighting with the SIM controllers is one thing; this is another. “Stay out of it,” I shout, but the sounds of my classmates are too loud.

“Stop,” Cal shouts. His booming voice cuts through the din, but both boys ignore him.

Cal lunges for Thor, grabs him, and pins his arms back. Thor struggles, but Cal, using skills learned from our prisoner restraint class, kicks the back of the bully’s thick legs, forcing them to bend until Thor’s on his knees.

Ansel looks as if he’s about to kick his downed opponent in the face, but Cal shakes his head. “Don’t even think about it.” Ansel stops mid-kick and backs up.

Cal releases Thor and the thick boy lands prone on the floor.

“Who do you think you are to tell me what to do?” Thor scrambles to his feet and backs up to the wall, glaring at Cal. “No one put you in charge.”

Cal lifts his hands. “We’re all on the same team here. Whatever beef you two have, this isn’t the way to sort it out.”

Cursing, Thor charges Ansel. “The little shrimp is a Deviant.” Blood and spit fly from Thor’s lips.

Cal steps to the side to block Thor’s path. “Why do you think he’s a Deviant?”

The bully’s face reddens, veins bulge at his temple, and blood drips from his nose. “He doesn’t belong. He’s too weak, too small. If we have to serve with him, he’ll get us all killed. Just like your girlfriend. Neither of them belongs. Larsson knows it. We all know it.”

Cal’s jaw flexes at the mention of my name. “Ansel got into the program, same as the rest of us.”

“Yeah, but…” Thor runs the back of his hand under his nose to clear some blood. “But someone must have pulled strings. He sucks. No way did he get through the Entrance Trials.” Thor looks around the group. “He wasn’t there on my day. Did anyone see him on theirs?”

A few boys shake their heads.

Cal shifts again, staying between the two boys. “Even if you’re right, and I’m not saying you are, Ansel’s got to pass COT just like the rest of us.”

Thor narrows his eyes. “He’s using Deviant tricks to get by. It’s not fair.”

“What tricks?” Cal asks him. “Tell me what tricks he uses.”

“That’s what I was trying to figure out, you idiot.” Thor shoves Cal.

Cal straightens and widens his stance. “That doesn’t make sense.” His hands flex at his sides. “We were all carefully screened before getting into the program. No way is anyone in COT a Deviant. If one of those monsters even tried to get near the program, they’d be expunged.”

“One might get through.” Thor’s voice is calmer. “They have special powers.”

Cal claps him on the arm. “Listen. You prove that one of us is a Deviant”—he gestures around the room—“and I’ll
help
you kill him.”

I press my palm against my stomach to quell its churning.

Cal reaches for the game controllers. “Work out your differences on the SIM.” He passes the controllers to Thor and Ansel. “Let’s see a fair fight. After that, we’ll sit down and talk this out.”

“I’ll cream him,” Thor says. “No matter which avatar I get stuck with.”

“Bring it on.” Ansel takes a set of controllers and strides in front of the screen.

Thor wipes the blood from beneath his nose onto the back of his forearm. “Let’s go.”

Cal stands to the side, arms folded over his chest, as the match begins. He’s a born leader. I’ve always known this but it’s never been clearer, and I’ve never felt more grateful to have him as a friend—as a dating partner too. Pride swells inside me, pushing out some of the dread. If it weren’t for Burn, I could fall for Cal again—hard.

But this fight proved my love would be doomed. If he finds out the truth, Cal won’t just hate me. He’ll want me dead.

R
ELEASING THE LADDER’S
last rung, I drop twenty feet to land in a crouch. Keeping still, I listen and observe to make sure I’m alone in the dark alley. The moon light has been bouncing off the sky for six hours already and its pale gray-blue tint casts a pallor on my skin. Deciding it’s safe, I run down the alley to the nearly hidden metal door of the room where I have my briefings with Clay.

Instead of taking rescued Deviants all the way to the Settlement, like Burn did with Drake and me, Clay hands off the kids to a transport team waiting outside the wall.

After checking again for observers or newly repaired surveillance cameras, I tap on the metal door twice, pause, then three times. The door swings open but wherever Clayton’s standing, he’s shrouded in darkness.

I slip in, shut the door, and a dim light comes on.

My breath catches. It’s not Clayton.

It’s Burn.

My stomach flips at the sight of his heavy, dark eyebrows, his chin-length brown hair, and his broad body under that long, swinging coat. My pounding heart pushes all my blood to my face and ears. Poised on my toes, my body wants to spring forward, to race into his arms, but my brain holds me back. I feel turned inside out, every nerve ending exposed and firing at once.

Should I hug him? Shake his hand? Nothing feels right.

“What are you gaping at?” he asks, his voice flat and cold.

My throat clenches. “I—this is a surprise.” My tongue feels coated in dust. I glance around the ten-by-ten room with its piles of plastic containers sorted by size. “Where’s Clay?”

“Like you don’t know.” His voice is strange.

“Why would I know?”

He frowns. “You actually thought Clay would be here?”

“Of course I did. Clay’s my Extractor.”

“Not anymore.”

“That’s not fair.” I fight to calm my rising anger, to slow my thudding heart. “I’ve done a great job and I’m careful. Rolph can’t cut me off like this.” My voice holds a desperate tinge. “I need to save more Deviants.”

“You
need
to?” He smirks. “This isn’t about you.”

“I know.” I look down at the dusty floor and another possibility rises. Is Burn my new Extractor? When I first agreed to work for the FA, I hoped I’d work with Burn, and I
try to imagine what it will be like to work with him now, to see him a few times every week.

Merely being in the same room, I remember how it felt to be engulfed in his strong arms, captured by his lips. But I know it’s not possible. When we act on our attraction, our Deviant abilities are too dangerous. If it happens again, one of us will end up dead.

“Why are you here?” I step forward. “It’s dangerous for you inside Haven. You’re wanted for my kidnapping.”

He grunts.

I look down. “It’s good to see you.”

He crosses his arms over his very broad chest. “What?”

His tone is like a punch. Maybe he’s seen me with Cal. But where and when? At least my desire to kiss him is waning. “Why are you acting so cold?”

“Cold?” he asks.

“Like you barely know me.”

“I
do
barely know you.” He shakes his head, the disgust in his voice unmistakable. “And it’s already more than I want to.” Each word’s like another stab. Looking at him now, I feel as if every connection between us has been severed, like there’s a wall, or a force, keeping us apart, and I’m not sure whether it stems from him or from me.

I lift my chin, trying to keep my body from shaking. “Burn, stop pretending that I mean nothing to you, or never did. Stop pretending that we didn’t spend hours together out in the dust, that we weren’t attacked by Shredders, captured by sadistic military freaks. Stop pretending we never…” I can’t voice the last part. My cheeks flare.

“Oh. That.” An ugly smile snakes onto his face. “I get it. You
like
me.”

I remain still, shifting my jaw, but my head feels like it might explode. I need to ignore his taunts. Who cares why he’s acting this way as long as he gives me a new list of targets, as long as he works with me to save fellow Deviants.

“Admit it. You’re into me.” He flares his coat and strikes a strong pose. “I can smell the teenage lust from here.”

Hurt roils into anger. “Shut up.” I stomp my foot. “You’re being such a jerk.”

“Sorry, little girl,” he says. “I’m done with you. I’ve moved on. Found a real woman.”

“Don’t call me a little girl.” My words come out through gritted teeth, especially since that’s exactly how he’s made me feel.

“But that’s what you are.” One side of his mouth crooks up and he struts around me, his face in a half-sneer. “A little girl, not qualified for this assignment. Not qualified or properly trained for the FA. I told the Commander he shouldn’t risk the lives of qualified soldiers—of anyone—on you.”

My hands form fists and it’s all I can do not to use them. “Rolph
chose
me for this undercover mission. He
asked
me to do this.” Burn recommended me to him, but if I remind him, he’ll likely twist it some way to salt the emotional wounds he’s already slashed open. “This is my job. I’m good at it.”

“Rolph was clearly desperate when he asked you,” he says. “Speaking of desperate—so was I.”

“What?” My insides collapse. I can’t breathe. My mind flashes to the last moment I saw Burn, to his huge arms
wrapped around my body, holding me as if I were the most precious thing in the world.

And now he says this?

Clearly
I
was the one who was desperate. My throat’s nearly closed with regret and anger. When I first met Burn I thought Cal had betrayed me. That warped my judgment. If I’d known the truth about Cal, I never would have let myself feel anything for Burn.

Burn knew the truth all along and made me turn against Cal, the boy I always loved, the boy I was—and am—officially dating. Burn made me betray Cal.

And now Burn’s making it clear that I never meant anything to him.

Fine. He means nothing to me. I swallow the hurt. Refuse to let it control me.

“Cat got your tongue, little girl?” He crosses his arms over his chest.

I lunge forward, anger exploding out of me like I’m a broken air vent. “I am an FA soldier, not a little girl, you—you—rapist!”

“Rapist?” He laughs. “This
is
getting interesting.”

I lift my chin. “Given your Deviance, I don’t doubt you’ve raped
someone
by now. I feel sorry for your new girlfriend.” Cruel words. He deserves them.

“Oh, she has no complaints.” He leans against the wall and his biceps bulge against the fabric of his coat.

My chest is so tight, my ribs are crushing my lungs. “Great. Good for you. I get it. You’re happy. You were only using me. Fine. But that’s no reason for you to act like you
hate
me.”

He shifts forward. “I’ve got plenty of reasons to hate you. It’s a mistake to use a Haven employee for extractions. Especially you.”

My shoulders shift back. “Why especially me?”

He sneers. “Because you’re related to Hector Solis.”

At my dad’s name, my heart rate takes off and I step toward Burn. “Do you have a message from my dad? Is he okay? Is Drake? Is something wrong?”

He shakes his head.

“How about Gage? I’m trying to find his kids.” Burn saved Gage, Outside, and showed him how to safely breathe dust. Maybe mentioning him will bring Burn back to his senses. “Do you know their names, where I can find them? Do you know if either of his kids are Deviants?”

Burn looks at me like I’m insane. “I’m not giving you any information. No way. You’re one of
them
.”

“One of
them
?” Fists form at my sides. If I didn’t think he’d kill me, I’d slug him. “You’re a Deviant too.” Plus, we’re the same age so his “too young” and “little girl” insults rankle.